


there's just something about you

by chraume



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, F/M, b99 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 12:09:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12457482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chraume/pseuds/chraume
Summary: "She's really, really glad he's prepared to promise to spend the rest of his life with her." After the bar, after the excitement of HalloVeen, Jake and Amy have a quiet moment to themselves.Spoilers through 5x04.





	there's just something about you

**Author's Note:**

> Just some unapologetic fluff that specifically demanded to be written down. Title/lyrics come from Tim McGraw & Faith Hill's "The Rest of Our Life."

 

_you know there's just something about you  
you brighten my day_

  
Here's the thing: Amy hasn't ever  _not_ wanted to get married. It's always been on the life plan, albeit in pencil, because even Amy Santiago knows that some things you just can't plan for, and she would never –  _never_ – risk having to use white-out on her life plan, thank you very much.   
  
But she's also been dating Jake for a while, and she loves Jake and chose him knowing exactly who he is, and who he is is someone who needs to move slower in a relationship. Not, like, for the emotional stuff, but the big step stuff? They're moving at different speeds, and that's okay. She's long been absolutely, unmistakably certain that she'd be totally fine just being two partners in love, who live under the same roof, permanently. No need to make it legal. Six months without him while he was in Florida, eight weeks without him while he was in freaking _jail_  – it's enough of a reminder that life without him is far,  _far_  worse than any alternative.  
  
But it would be nice, is all. Marriage. She doesn't need it, and she would live a perfectly happy life with Jake without any form of marriage, but if Jake is on board, then it's a thing that she's wanted.  
  
So when he proposes, she's genuinely surprised.  
  
They've discussed it before, well over a year ago, and it was a clear hypothetical, a  _maybe in the future?_  kind of a discussion in which Amy had made it very clear that she's on board the marriage train, but any discussion of their future since then has mostly been carefully avoided – for every  _we have the rest of our lives to discuss this,_ Jake has reciprocated with a  _for the rest of our relationship_  in turn, and that's been okay, because it's not like Amy has had any concerns about them breaking up. She just knows Jake, and he's a little more guarded with his promises, offers nothing until it's a certainty, until he's sure he very definitely won't break it. She knows that he carries scars from his childhood.   
  
And she's really,  _really_ glad he's prepared to promise to spend the rest of his life with her.    
  
It's well past 4:00AM, and they've been awake for over a day at this point, but too hyped to go to sleep. After the bar, after everyone else had dispersed and left the two of them there to beam happily at each other, they'd finally come home and had a real, ahem,  _celebration,_ after which Amy had settled in to call her parents and Jake suddenly very loudly proclaimed that he needed a shower while she did that, and she'd laughed, shooing him away. Now finished, she could feel the strains of exhaustion settling in, but some things are too important to not be jotted down in her journal immediately, while every detail is still fresh in her mind. Jake's nervous little smile. The hitch in his voice. The words he'd chosen off the top of his head --  _smart, funny, beautiful, kind_. The fact that he'd chosen this -- her -- from just a random, normal day in their lives. That he loves her enough to tag along to her seminars, that he loves how indignant she gets over a typo in a crossword puzzle.  
  
"Hey." Speaking of, Jake himself emerges from the bathroom, towelling off his hair. He's already in his PJs, a white t-shirt that she's not entirely certain is clean and his favourite pair of plaid pajama pants. Weakly, faintly, even though he's just in the clothes she's seen a million times, her heart flutters. "You're already off the phone? What did your parents say?"  
  
"They were thrilled that I was calling at 2:00AM their time," she says, rolling her eyes. He laughs at that, throwing his towel in the laundry basket (again, that happy little heart flutter) and plopping down unceremoniously on his side of the bed. The movement makes her bounce a little bit as she adds, "But they said congratulations, and that they're so excited for us."  
  
There's a beat while he waits, gauging her face. He knows her as well as she knows him, so she studiously avoid his gaze as she tacks on, her voice as prim as it's ever been, "And asked us to send an updated credit score at our earliest convenience."  
  
"There it is," he says, but when she glances up at him, trying not to grin sheepishly, he still has the soft look on his face that he's had since she read the inscription on the cummerbund. "But for real, we should do that ASAP, I will very definitely be sliding back into crushing debt the second the paperwork on Nutraboom goes through."  
  
"Oh, we're going to be talking with Fake Charles about that tomorrow," she says fiercely, closing her journal and setting it on the nightstand.  
  
"Pretty sure that was some sketchy but still legal paperwork."  
  
"I can be very persuasive."  
  
He smiles softly. "Yeah, you definitely can be." He slides under the covers, settling back so they're side by side. There's a beat, and then he adds, "But between that, and a very expensive ring I bought recently, my credit score  _may_ have backslid a little bit."  
  
The thought makes her heart stop. "Tell me you didn't go into debt for this ring."  
  
He's laughing again, and he does know her too well, damnit. "I swear I didn't." But he adds: "But I  _did_ have to spend a whole dollar on it, you gold digger."  
  
Stretching her hand out in front of her again to properly assess the ring, Amy lets the diamonds glitter a little in the light of her bedside lamp, catches herself smiling at it before she clenches her fist closed and tries to stare fiercely at Jake. "There's no way this was a dollar."  
  
"I could always return it," he teases, looking stupidly proud of himself.   
  
"No!" she half-shouts, but catches herself too late, scowling at him again. "Promise me you didn't go back into crushing debt for this."   
  
"Promise," he sighs, still with that you-said-yes look on his face, and is it possible that this heart flutter is just a heart attack, or what? But he slips right back into teasing. "I knew it. It's allllll about the money with you. You're going to be marrying into some serious cash, you know. My credit score is almost 350 now."  
  
She laughs out loud, and even though it's an objectively terrible credit score, she's still absurdly pleased with him for getting it up there. "We'll tell my parents it's 500."  
  
"They'll never believe it."  
  
Well. True.  
  
Out of unspoken agreement, they both turn at the same time to flick off their respective bedside lamps, settling down and moving around to get comfortable. It takes a minute, but in the soft glow of the moonlight barely peeking out from the blinds, Amy can just make out the shape of his face, that pleased grin still there.   
  
"I'm really glad we're getting married," she whispers into the darkness, and he reaches out one hand to grab hers, weaving their fingers together. It's a soft moment, a nice piece of what is inarguably the best and most fun day of her life.  
  
"Samesies."  
  
This is it, she thinks. The rest of their lives. They're lying on their respective sides of the bed, face to face. Given the fact that neither of them are wearing their contacts, she has to assume that her face is as blurry to him as his is to her. She brings one hand up to rest on his cheek, gently stroking at the stubble as his eyes flutter tiredly. When they're less exhausted, five or six hours from now, they'll wake up and go about their day as they would on any other day off, making smiley-face pancakes and teasing each other over the island in their kitchen. She'll read the paper and pass the comics along to him, and she'll read the headlines aloud to him over their coffees. She'll insist on a run at some point and he'll complain and tease her but he'll end up coming along and they'll race each other until they can't breathe from laughter. They'll probably watch  _House Hunters_  or  _Die Hard_  or anything, really. Barring the inevitable couple of hours that Amy drags him out to buy a new binder for wedding prep, it'll be like any other day, completely unremarkable.   
  
Just the thought makes Amy grin into the darkness, overwhelmed with how  _good_ this thing is, how good tomorrow and every day after will be.  
  
But for now, his eyes close sleepily and her hand slips off his face, falling to rest between their pillows. And they sleep.  


 

_so i take your hand and ask you,  
have you made plans for the rest of your life?_


End file.
